


Operation Lazarus

by Russ (Quasar)



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Early Work, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-04
Updated: 2011-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-16 02:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quasar/pseuds/Russ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If at first you don't succeed, Leap again!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation Lazarus

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 1996.

Hot.

Very hot, and damp, and sweaty. Like living in the mouth of a Saint Bernard.

Grass and plants prickling my legs, my arms, my chest through a thin shirt. The smell of stagnant water and rotting vegetation. Running footsteps nearby, and heavy breathing.

There was something pressed to my face, a surface of black metal. I couldn't see anything except a tiny window of light, framing a face staring back at me. I dropped the camera in time to see Al Calavicci stumble as the rope tied to his neck was jerked sharply. Then he was out of sight around a bend in the grassy path.

"Oh, boy," I gasped.

My muscles went into action before I really thought about it. The camera thumped on my breastbone, and a hat -- Maggie Dawson's Aussie hat with all its fishing flies -- flew from my head as I ran down the path. Only two guards, I remembered. One of them was at the back of the line of prisoners, and I thumped squarely into him when I rounded the bend, tackling him to the ground. He tried to bring up his machine gun, but I planted an elbow hard in his stomach and tore the weapon from his hands.

"Look out!" yelled a familiar voice as I started to get to my feet. The other guard was turning, his gun at the ready -- the muzzle was pointed straight at me --

Al tumbled to the ground and rolled into the man's knees. A spray of bullets went over my head as the guard staggered, then my own return fire took him squarely in the chest.

He fell to the ground in a bloody ruin. God, I had killed again. I hate killing. I hate war. I hate Vietnam.

Two other prisoners stopped on the path, one collapsing to the ground and the other staring at me dazedly. Al, sprawled across the guard's legs, was choking and struggling to free himself. The rope around his neck had pulled tight as he dove to my rescue. I knelt at his side, patting myself quickly. Didn't Maggie carry any knives around with her? Finally I settled for prying at the rough rope with my fingers. At last it came free, and I went to work on the bindings around Al's wrists.

"Are you okay?" I gasped at him. He was appallingly thin. And so young!

He rolled his eyes back at me. "You're American? What are you doing here?" His voice was a raw croak, but unmistakably Al's.

"I -- I came to free you," I stammered awkwardly. That had to be why I had Leaped in here.

As soon as his hands were loose Al climbed to his feet and grabbed up the gun I had dropped. He turned toward the first guard, who was just starting to breathe normally after the blow I had given his diaphragm. The guard looked up fearfully and tried to crawl away, holding up one hand as if to shield himself.

Al shot him. Very thoroughly. I yelled something, but my feet seemed rooted to the ground.

Al glanced at me, dropped the gun and turned to the other prisoners. "Billy," he called out to the man who had collapsed, "Billy! Snap out of it! We're rescued." He started untying their bonds.

"Rescued?" said the man who was standing. He frowned at me in utter confusion. "This don't look like a rescue," he mumbled. "Al, it's just a dream."

"It's not a dream, Mark." Al tugged the rope off the standing man's head. "I don't think. There sure is something weird about it, though." He stared at me. "Since when does the Army issue cameras instead of guns?"

I blinked. "I -- I'm not a soldier. I'm a reporter." I still couldn't believe Al had shot that guard in cold blood. Then again, nothing was ever cold here. Nothing was black and white. And Al had been that man's prisoner for -- how long? My stomach clenched.

"Best looking reporter I ever saw," Mark giggled with a touch of hysteria.

Al glanced in puzzlement from his fellow prisoner to me. "You're crazy," he said to me. "You came running in here with nothing but a camera?"

"I couldn't just let them drag you away," I mumbled. Then I jumped as the distant chatter of machine-guns became audible. A helicopter was thwapping closer. Tom! The ambush. I swallowed. "That's the squad I was with," I managed. "We got separated."

Al squinted at me. "So they don't know you're here."

"I -- guess not." I looked around distractedly. "We need to get back to the pickup point." But where was that? The river must be over where the chopper was flying, and the mortar fire was up ahead of us. "This way, I think." My memory was so foggy! I had been here before, but I couldn't remember exactly how everything happened. Was it going the same way as it had the last time, or was Tom dying in the ambush even now?

"Billy, get up!" Al said to the fallen man. "We have to get out of here."

"He can't run no more," Mark said wearily, not looking terribly energetic himself.

"I'll carry him." I hauled Billy up over my shoulder. He was at least fifty pounds underweight; I could probably even jog with him on my back.

Mark giggled again. "Whoa! Tough lady!"

"You okay, Mark?" Al demanded, looking at his companion strangely.

"Al, when I wake up, I'm gonna tell you about this dream, and you won't even believe me!" Mark chortled.

"Let's go!" I urged them. "That way! And watch out for booby traps."

Al took the lead, running cautiously along the path. His gait was stiff-jointed, and he flinched at every noise, but he never hesitated. We had passed two tripwires -- the only way of measuring distance that seemed to make any sense here -- when I realized we were in familiar territory. The gunfire had stopped; the chopper would be settling down to pick up the squad soon. We had to hurry. I headed off to the left.

And there, at a joining of the paths, was Tom's squad. He was safe! I could see him in the lead. A black man at his elbow was gesturing broadly, and I realized I had seen that face in a mirror once. Magic Williams pointed out a boobytrap and waited until the last man of the squad had passed it safely.

"Sam!" I yelled, lurching after him. "Wait up!"

The black man froze and stared back at me, his jaw dropping open. Then a figure in pristine dress whites appeared next to him, and I felt my face stretch into a grin.

"I found them, Sam!" I yelled. "I saved Al!"

The hologram was staring at me in utter bafflement. Sam/Magic was waving his arms frantically. Almost too late, I remembered the boobytrap that had killed Maggie Dawson. I somersaulted over it, dumping poor Billy in the mud, and yelled a warning back to the prisoners behind me.

Mark and Al needed no encouragement now. They stepped over the tripwire, hauled Billy to his feet, and started dragging him toward the chopper. Sam/Magic stumbled dazedly after them.

"Sam," said the hologram to Sam/Magic. "Sam, that's --"

I stopped next to the Observer and grinned at him hugely. "I did it, Al. I saved you."

Now Sam/Magic was flabbergasted. "You can see him?"

Just then I heard a familiar sound behind me, and I spun around to see the Imaging Chamber door open. A second hologram of Al appeared, this one wearing a black-and silver shirt with a narrow green tie over green pants. "Sam!" he bellowed at me, "you got a second chance! You're here to --" He faltered to a stop as he took in the tableau around him.

"I know, Al! I did it! I fixed everything!"

"Sam?" said the uniformed hologram tentatively to me. "Is that you? Who are you talking to?"

"Al!" Sam/Magic said to the new hologram. "How can you be here twice?"

"How can I be here twice?" the second Al demanded. "You're the one who's here twice. Oh! You mean I'm here too?" His head swiveled. "Why can't I see me?"

Sam/Magic turned to me. "I don't understand. How come you can see --"

I grabbed his hand, and blue light rippled out from our forearms. The other Sam had never seen this effect before, and he yelped in surprise as our true appearances were revealed to each other. I hadn't seen that face -- my face -- for so long, I just wanted to stand there and drink it in.

"What --?" Sam said weakly.

"Sometimes it takes more than one try to get things right," I told him.

"Magic!" Tom yelled from the chopper. "What are you doing? Get Maggie over here!"

I took Sam's elbow and hauled him along with me.

The chopper was even more crowded than it had been on the way out, and a lot more confusing. Colonel Grimwold was screaming at me for the trick Maggie Dawson had pulled. Tom and half the squad members were slapping me on the back and demanding to know how I had found the POWs. Doc and the rest of the SEALs were asking the other Sam how he had known about the ambush. Sam wasn't answering them, just staring at me in complete shock. Both holographic Als were similarly dumbfounded. They stood a few feet outside the chopper on thin air, overlapping each other slightly.

"Would one of you please move a couple feet to the left!" I snapped at them.

Both of them moved, and now they were overlapping completely. Apparently, they couldn't see each other, since the holographic imaging was tuned to my brainwaves. But both I and my double could see both of them.

Sam's mouth moved; I couldn't hear anything over the whine of the chopper blades and the crowing of the other SEALs, but I knew what he was asking: "What are you doing here?"

I grabbed his chin and twisted it around so he was looking the three POWs crammed in the center of the bay. Billy was completely out of it. Mark was having a great time, apparently still convinced this was a dream and determined to enjoy it while it lasted. Al was trying to scowl and grin and ask questions and answer them all at the same time.

Sam's jaw moved under my hand. "Al!" he realized.

I leaned forward to bellow in his ear. "The first time, Al gave up his chance to get free so he could help me keep Tom alive. It looks like now I got a second chance to get it right."

Sam's head swiveled from the young half-starved Al to the Siamese-twin holograms and back. All three Als stared at us as if we were crazy.

When we got back to base, the three POWs and Sam and I were all hauled off the chopper and mobbed like heroes. I wormed my way through the crowd -- funny, they all seemed to be going out of their way to brush up against me -- until I reached Tom's side.

"You better get those guys out of here," I told him, waving at the freed prisoners. "They look pretty beat."

Tom nodded at me and detailed a couple of men to help Mark and Billy to sickbay. Young Al followed reluctantly, staring back at me.

I tried to remember the tricks Maggie Dawson had used to keep the slavering pack of soldiers at arm's length. "Could you boys give me a few minutes?" I shouted over the babble. "I need to have a word with Magic, here."

The men howled and yipped. "Woooo! Magic's gonna get his reward! Oh, man, Magic, I wish I was in your place!"

"Well, he deserves it," Doc concluded. "I still don't know he figured out about that ambush."

Tom slapped the other Sam between the shoulder blades hard enough to make him stagger. "I'll want you to tell me all about it later, Magic. For now --" He waggled his eyebrows at me "-- have fun."

With more shouts and wolf whistles the group moved slowly away, leaving me, my double, and two Als blinking at each other in bafflement.

"Sam," the more wildly-dressed hologram demanded plaintively, "how come I don't remember it this way from before?"

"Because it didn't happen this way before." I was grinning so hard my face hurt. "At least, not for you and me. For him," I pointed at Sam, "and him," the uniformed hologram, "all this will seem pretty familiar when it comes around the second time." Then I thought of something. "You can remember the altered history, right?" I demanded of both holograms. "You remember being rescued?" I couldn't remember Tom surviving Vietnam -- not clearly anyway -- but that was probably just because of the Swiss Cheese Effect. Was Al really getting any benefit from all my running around in the past?

"Yeah, I remember." "Sure, I remember," they said in ragged stereo. "I was a little out of it at the time --" "It's a little fuzzy, but --"

They both leaned forward to peer at me, causing their images to overlap again. "It really was you! I wasn't seeing things!" they said in unison.

"This is too weird," said the other Sam.

"Don't worry about it," I told him. "Trust me, it's better than it would have been if you were the only one. Listen, I think I'm going to Leap out of here soon. You stick with Tom until midnight and make sure he's okay, right?"

"Uh . . . sure."

"And tell Maggie she's the heroine of the hour. Sorry about the hat, but she should get at least two Pulitzers for this story."

"Oh, Sam --" "Careful what you say, Sam," the holograms warned me.

I looked up. Al the skeletally thin POW was standing a few feet away, glaring at me and Sam. "What are you two, twins?" he demanded. "One's a reporter and one's a SEAL?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "You can see us? I mean, us?"

"Apparently he can," I said.

The young man took a step back. "You're supposed to be invisible?"

"Not exactly," I told him. "Listen, Al, don't worry about this. It probably won't make much sense in the morning."

He snorted. "It doesn't make sense now! This is going to sound crazy, but -- when I first saw you by the path, I could have sworn you were a woman."

Sam and I exchanged glances. "You're seeing things," we both said to him at once.

"It's only natural after what you've been through," I went on. "Don't make too much out of it. Why don't you go find your buddies and make sure they're okay?" I put an arm around his shoulder and started to guide him away.

"Seeing things?" he muttered.

"That's right. And you better get used to it, because you'll see a lot stranger things a few years down the line."

I twisted my head to grin back at Sam and the other two Als, and in that moment I Leaped.

 

June 1996


End file.
